The God who feeds, an author interview

Kendall Vanderslice talks with us about her new book, By Bread Alone

Mar 16, 2023

Gentle reader,

Today, I get to bring you an interview with

, author of the new book By Bread Alone: A Baker's Reflections on Hunger, Longing, and the Goodness of God. The book is a theology of bread. How great is that?!? Below, after the interview, you’ll also find an exclusive excerpt from the book.

The interview follows:

BFJ: I love the cover design, with the twin loaves of bread. How do you think about this image?

KV: I also love this cover! I offered such an abstract idea to the designer and I'm amazed at how she ran with it. I wanted the cover to speak to the relationship between bread and the body. The loaves are indeed meant to look like lungs (I've been asked many times if that was purposeful!)—this book hopes to show that bread is as central to our lives as breathing.

By Bread Alone: A Baker's Reflections on Hunger, Longing, and the Goodness of God

BFJ: Why did you write By Bread Alone?

KV: Bread is so central to Christian practice, and it’s an image present all throughout the story of Scripture, but our theological understanding of bread is pretty underdeveloped. As a professional baker, I couldn't help but see the ways the science of breadmaking itself communicates something powerful about the character of God, and illuminates why God would choose bread as a such a powerful tool throughout the narrative of Scripture. Part of what makes bread so incredible as a theological tool, though, is that it’s God's way of communing with us in tangible form, in a manner that cannot be fully grasped in words or in our minds. I felt that writing a theology of bread as a theological text would actually undermine the work itself—the book had to be a book of memoir, of poetry, and of recipes.

BFJ: Give us the short version: what’s the book about?

KV: This book is a theology of bread as told through my own story. I have a complicated relationship to food, bread specifically, and to my own body thanks to years spent training in classical ballet and an early diagnosis of PCOS. I also, like many people, have had a complicated relationship to the Church. This book is about how I've found healing in relationship to my own body and to food, as well as to the Church, through the bread offered to me week after week in Communion as well as the bread I bake and share with friends around the table.

BFJ: Share a detail you’re fond of from the book?

KV: American bread baking really began to change in the early 20th century as bacteria and yeast became better understood. This scientific understanding allowed for the introduction of commercial yeast, but it also led to fear over the uncontrollable microbes that are responsible for making bread. Middle-class consumption of bread shifted from bread made in the home to bread purchased at the grocery store as industrial bakeries touted their ability to bake loaves never touched by a pair of human hands. These fears were also connected to the fears of white middle-class consumers in the face of changing racial demographics. They were won over by the industrial baker's focus on the whiteness and purity of their loaves.

I find it fascinating that a century later, when the Covid-19 pandemic left us deeply aware of the danger of uncontrollable microbes and the danger of other bodies getting too close (even as both microbes and fellow humans are necessary for living!), that the world collectively turned back to learning how to bake bread.

Kendall Vanderslice is a writer and baker in Durham, North Carolina. She is the founder of the Edible Theology Project, an educational media project connecting the Communion table to the kitchen table. She holds an MLA in Gastronomy from Boston University and a Master's of Theological Studies from Duke Divinity School. Find her writing on Christianity Today, Christian Century, Religion News Service, and Bitter Southerner.

BFJ: What do people mistakenly assume when they hear about your book?

KV: Those who are familiar with my previous book or my work with Edible Theology are surprised by just how personal this one is—they mistakenly assume it will be more of an academic approach to theology of bread. There is a lot of research that went into this book, no question! But I could only communicate those findings through my own story.

BFJ: Are there difficulties in the spiritual life that By Bread Alone can help to address?

KV: My hope is that this book will be a balm to those who are struggling in their relationship to God or to the Church. That it will open their eyes to the truth that in our moments of pain or heartbreak, of loneliness or unmet longing, God is still present with us in the tangible form of bread. I also hope that my own story of learning to taste God's goodness in the face of unanswered prayers and unmet longings will encourage those who find themselves in a similar situation.

BFJ: If you could gift every one of your friends with one insight from the book, what would it be?

KV: The majority of flavor and texture in bread is developed while the dough is at rest. As a baker, this is humbling. I'm not an active participant in most of the baking process, rather I have to step back and trust that the microbes will do the work they're supposed to do. Similarly, God calls us to slow down and to rest—that rest is a gift and it’s a method through which God strengthens and transforms us as well.

BFJ: How has your spiritual life and prayer life changed as you’ve matured?

KV: When I was younger, I was really concerned with believing correctly, living correctly, worshiping correctly. I felt like I needed God to know that I was all in, and this created an anxious drive to constantly prove my devotion. As I’ve grown older (and burned out in the restless striving to succeed!), I've come to value simply sitting in the presence of God. For me, mixing and shaping dough is when I sense God's nearness most.

BFJ: What would your 10-year-old self say if she learned you’d grow up to write about this stuff?

KV: I think she would be shocked but also delighted. 10-year-old me loved food and loved bread, especially, but I was also just becoming aware of my body and ashamed of my love of eating. I wish I could keep her from experiencing that shame; but I don't think I could do the work I'm doing today if I hadn't had that experience either.

BFJ: Besides By Bread Alone what are your top reading recommendations for folks who want to think more deeply about these matters? Why do you recommend them?

KV: Robert Farrar Capon’s Supper of the Lamb is necessary reading for anyone who wants to explore these themes further! The book is such a delight, and so theologically rich too. I also love Peter Reinhart's Bread Upon the Waters. It’s not as well known as his cookbooks, but it shares his own spiritual journey of coming to know God through bread.

Image by Frank Oschatz from Pixabay

The following is an exclusive excerpt from Kendall’s book:

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

Liturgy for Bread Baking
Adapted from the prayer liturgy in the Book of Common Prayer

Begin by gathering your supplies:
3 cups white flour (unbleached all-purpose or bread flour will do)
½ cup whole wheat flour
¼ teaspoon yeast (instant or active dry)
1 teaspoon salt (kosher preferred)
1½ cups water, just warm to the touch
1 large mixing bowl
a bowl scraper, if you have one
a light, damp tea towel
your Bible

Measure the flour, yeast, and salt into the bowl. Form a well in the center of the bowl and pray:

Come, let us sing to the LORD;
let us shout for joy to the Rock of our salvation.
Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving
and raise a loud shout to him with psalms.
For the LORD is a great God,
and a great King above all gods.
In his hand are the caverns of the earth,
and the heights of the hills are his also.
The sea is his, for he made it,
and his hands have molded dry land.
Come, let us bow down, and bend the knee,
and kneel before the LORD our Maker.
For he is our God,
and we are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand.
Oh, that today you would hearken to his voice!
Psalm 95:1-7

Pour the water into the center of the well. With your fingers, pull the flour bit by bit into the watery center. Thicken the water slowly, rubbing out dry clumps of flour as they form. Contemplate the feeling of these substances as they transform within your hands.
As the water thickens, continue pulling in flour until the two mixtures are worked into one.
Cover the mixture with the damp towel and step away to a silent place.
While you wait, read Exodus 16. Pay attention to the ways God encourages the people to wait and trust in the Lord for daily bread.
Now uncover your mixture and grip one side of the dough firmly in your hand. Stretch one side and fold it over the dough. Rotate the bowl 90 degrees and repeat. As you build both elasticity and strength in the bread, pray with each breath:

Inhale: Oh God (stretch) who comes (fold)
Exhale: to us (stretch) in bread (fold)

Inhale: Do not (stretch) let us (fold)
Exhale: go (stretch and fold).

Repeat three more times. Cover the dough and let it rest until the same time tomorrow.

A benediction before you leave your dough:
Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine: Glory to him from generation to generation in the Church, and in Christ Jesus for ever and ever. Amen.

After the mixture has rested for a day, gather the dough, a bit of flour, a Dutch oven, and a sheet tray or bread pan. As you prepare your workspace, prepare your heart and mind as well.

Slowly breathe and meditate on these words:
Inhale: Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
Exhale: be acceptable in your sight, O Lord.

As you flour your counter and pour out your dough, continue meditative breathing. Smell the scent of fermentation, tangy and a little bit sweet. Marvel at the beauty and strength of the mixture, of the bubbles that signal new life and growth.

Now pause to pray:

O gracious light,
pure brightness of the everliving Father in heaven,
O Jesus Christ, holy and blessed!
Now as we come to the setting of the sun,
and our eyes behold the vesper light,
we sing your praises, O God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
You are worthy at all times to be praised by happy voices,
O Son of God, O Giver of Life,
and to be glorified through all the worlds.

Stretch and fold the dough four more times—back and front and side to side. As you do, pray this prayer:

Inhale: Worship (stretch) the Lord (fold)
Exhale: in the beauty (stretch) of holiness (fold).

Inhale: Let the whole (stretch) earth tremble (fold)
Exhale: before (stretch) him (fold).

Now gently poke your little blob of dough. Allow yourself to revel in just how fun it feels!

Once again, your bread needs rest—the journey from dough to bread must be slow. As the dough rests, it relaxes into its newfound strength. If you push it, it’s apt to tear.

While the dough rests, preheat the oven to 450°F. If you have a Dutch oven, preheat it, too. If not, a tray will do.

While you wait, read Matthew 4:1-11. Pay attention to Jesus’ choice of words. Remember he is both the Bread of Life and the Word of God.

The word of the Lord.
Thanks be to God.

Also read this song from Simeon, who did not die until he saw Jesus face-to-face:

Lord, you now have set your servant free
to go in peace as you have promised;
For these eyes of mine have seen the Savior,
whom you have prepared for all the world to see:
A Light to enlighten the nations,
and the glory of your people Israel.
Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit:
as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be for ever. Amen.

Return to your bread, which should be well rested now, and turn it upside down.
Stretch and fold it four more times, then fold it in half and tug to seal the seam and create tension across the surface of the dough. Place the seam side on a piece of parchment for one last rest.

The dough must relax to prepare for this final push, when it will grow with the last bit of energy it can muster.

Now step away to a quiet place. Inhale and exhale with each line of this prayer:

Inhale: O Lord, show us your mercy,
Exhale: and grant us your salvation.

Inhale: O Lord, save our nation,
Exhale: and guide us in the way of justice and truth.

Inhale: Clothe your ministers with righteousness,
Exhale: and make your people joyful.

Inhale: O Lord save your people,
Exhale: and bless your beloved creation.

Inhale: Give peace in our time, O Lord,
Exhale: for only in you can we live in safety.

Inhale: Let not the needy be forgotten,
Exhale: nor the hope of the poor be taken away.

Inhale: Create in us clean hearts, O God,
Exhale: and take not your Holy Spirit from us.

Repeat as many times as you must to believe these words are true. (Your bread needs half an hour—it’s okay if you do too.)

With a sharp knife, cut a deep slit across the top of the dough. The fermentation needs an outlet for this final push of energy.

Now place the dough in the oven and sprinkle the top with a bit of water. Then watch as the loaf changes before your eyes. Watch the bread grow and burp and relax (about 30 minutes), then pull it out and listen to it sing.

As the coolness meets the heat and the loaf’s muscles tighten up once more, the dough will start to crackle.

When the loaf is cooled completely, break it open and share it with people you love.

Adapted from By Bread Alone: A Baker’s Reflections on Hunger, Longing, and the Goodness of God by Kendall Vanderslice. Copyright © 2023. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, a Division of Tyndale House Ministries. All rights reserved.

Many thanks to Kendall for sharing with us! Buy her book here.

Grace and Peace,

BFJ

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